Shards of stone peppered my face bringing me back to consciousness. I reached up groggily trying to shield my face, a bloody log that used to be my arm slapped me in the face sending a wave of pain through my entire body. I winced, twitching, and growing as the pain subsided. Blinking away the tears I looked up at the battlefield before me. I had raided over 20 dungeons during my time as a dungeon raider, but this was the first time seeing such a sight.
The dungeon portal appeared in the ruins of an old city about 2 weeks ago. We tested the strength of the portal and deemed it appropriate to send 40 high-ranking raiders. We had gathered 10 mages and 30 warriors consisting of tanks, archers, damage dealers, and speed-based fighters. All in all, it should have been an easy raid, but we were far from correct.
The first week we thought we had a chance, we moved through the dungeon caves with ease taking out small forces of goblins, orcs, and a single minotaur. We had a few injuries, but nothing that made us concerned. Whether it was our confidence or just bad luck, we were not prepared for what we found in the last room. The last, and usually largest room, in a dungeon is called the throne room. It is where the dungeon master or dungeon boss is located. Normally the dungeon forces are spread out throughout the dungeon with a slightly larger force in the throne room. This time the boss must have drawn almost all of their forces into the throne room. We entered the massive room and were faced with a hoard of monsters over 100 strong. Rows and rows of goblins, hobgoblins, redcaps, ghouls, and minotaurs stood before us, and worst of all was the dungeon master, a massive red dragon that stood in the back on a huge throne.
The monsters attacked instantly as we made our appearance. We responded with a barrage of magic attacks and a formation of warriors to stop the incoming forces. After a few minutes of battling a small group of us including me, a tank, a range dealer, and three more damage dealers, along with our most powerful mage. We used magic to teleport up to the dragon's stage with the hopes of killing the leader. The battle was fierce but short and we were overpowered. The tank was flattened in one strike from the dragon which immediately threw the plan out of whack. After that, the damage dealers were wiped out one after another including me. The dragon spun striking out with its tail and caught me across the chest, sending me across the entire battlefield slamming me into the far wall near the rest of our group leaving me slumped on the ground.
I looked at our forces as they were torn apart. With every monster slain, another took its place immediately leaving no time to rest or recover. The warriors were drained of energy and ended up falling to the overpowering flow of monsters. I tried to move to go help them, but my body wouldn't respond. Did I break my back? I was useless now, nothing but dead weight waiting to die.
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The last line of defense broke down and we lost. I sat there hopeless as the monsters advanced. Fear filled me as a minotaur approached me holding a massive ax. I closed my eyes and tears filled my vision. Rage and anger overpowered the fear and my eyes snapped open. I looked up glaring at the monster standing before me. It smirked at my defiant gaze raising the ax. It came down with breakneck speed and cleaved my head in two. Sending the world into darkness.
“Dungeon construction commencing.” The eerie robotic voice echoed inside my skull cracking like a whip. “Dungeon construction completed. Dungeon level F, class subterranean, subclass arachnid.”
Shut up, Each word felt like knives digging into my brain.
“Authentication of dungeon master beginning.” pain erupted in my skull like a bolt of electricity. My eyes snapped open as I grabbed my head writhing in pain. The pain seemed to last for hours or even days leaving me twisting and rolling on the ground. After what felt like an eternity the voice echoed again “Dungeon master authentication complete.”
The pain began to fade allowing me to finally get a full breath in. I was lying on the ground drenched in sweat gasping in the cold air around me.
What the hell happened to me? The memory of the ax cleaving my skull in two flashed in my mind. How did I end up surviving? My mind was whirling as I attempted to recover from the pain and shock.
The ax! I vividly remembered the minotaur ax cleaving my head in two. I reached up gently touching my forehead feeling for bandages or worse, the bloody remains of my tattered skull perhaps. Instead, I felt smooth skin and silky hair. Pulling my hand away from my face, looked at it and froze. My heart stopped, skipped, and dropped to the pit of my stomach at the same time. I slowly flexed my fingers from a fist to open watching in horror. It was definitely my hand, although it was not my hand. Instead, I was looking at 4 slender paperwhite fingers with inch-long claws protruding from the ends. These were not the hands of a human.
I twisted around looking at the rest of my body and screamed. Instead of a human torso and legs, I was looking at the back end of a spider. I tried to kick away from my own lower half as if I would pull my real body out of this spider form. Instead, the spider legs lurched in unison pushing off the ground and launching me across the room, slamming my back into the far wall. I dropped to the floor with the spider half falling on top of me folding me in half like a lawn chair. This sent me into another panic and I thrashed and kicked scurrying my way around the room until I was drained of energy. I slumped to the ground panting. I just lay on the cold ground, too tired to even think.